


a snowfall kind of love

by icanthelpbut_love_you



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Magnus mixes very strong drinks and Alec is sappy when he’s tispy, POV Alec Lightwood, Snowed In, Soft Husbands, Spiked Cocoa, Tipsy Cuddles, which is a surprise to absolutely no one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21964381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icanthelpbut_love_you/pseuds/icanthelpbut_love_you
Summary: “Why didn’t we just portal?” Alec asks, still gasping for breath slightly. Even for a trained shadowhunter, their cabin is a fair distance from the quarters where Magnus’ warlock friend lives. Especially when he’d been expecting a leisurely stroll through the gorgeous snowy mountains.“And ruin the fun?” Magnus quips back, “We couldn’t possibly.”A freak snowstorm stops Magnus and Alec from getting back to New York after a mission. Alec’s probably less worried than he should be.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 6
Kudos: 152





	a snowfall kind of love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enkelimagnus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enkelimagnus/gifts).



> Malec discord secret santa fic for enkelimagnus, who requested snowed in, hot drinks, and tipsy cuddling. I hope you like it, Happy Hanukkah!
> 
> Title is from 'Snowfall' by Ingrid Michaelson

Alec stifles a giggle as he frantically tries to fit the key into the lock, feeling Magnus shiver and huddle as close as possible against the snowstorm raging around them.

Growling through chattering teeth, he fumbles when the ice on the door causes the key to slip.

“ _Lillith_ , Alec it’s cold out here! Can we hurry up and get inside – preferably before rather than after we both get frostbite?”

Any other time Alec would point out that as a warlock and a shadowhunter it would be difficult for either of them to actually get frostbite given the whole accerlerated healing situation (even without considering runes or magic). But it’s almost impossible to even see the lock a few inches in front of his face through the swirling snow and Alec needs all his concentration to try and wrestle the key into submission so they can get inside rather than take that chance.

So he settles for a distracted “I’m _trying_ ,” chuckling when Magnus presses closer and mutters under his breath about the cold and incompetent shadowhunters.

He does, however, startle as Magnus slides his freezing hands around Alec’s waist to emphasise just how cold he is, but manages to recover and _finally_ fit the key into the lock. A teasing admonishment dies on Alec’s lips as they tumble inside. It takes both of their strength to close the door against the wind outside, but it finally concedes with a flurry of snow. The howling wind outside cuts off to a muted roar. They collapse againstthe door and Alec can feel Magnus shaking with laughter, even as they both shiver.

He has to admit, this isn’t how he expected their evening to go. It’s the last day of their mission – if you can even call it that when it essentially amounted to Magnus helping out an old warlock friend with a spell that’s slightly above their power level, with Alec tagging along because the spell is tangentially clave business (the official reason) and because Magnus wanted his company (the more accurate unofficial reason) – so the last few hours were supposed to just be some finishing touches and socialising. But the spell had, as ancient, translated-through-several-language spells are liable to do, become unexpectedly complicated when they tried to complete those finishing touches. Which meant they fell behind schedule just long enough for he and Magnus to get caught up in a sudden snowstorm on the way back to their lodgings.

Laughter abating, he turns to Magnus and is sent into a fresh fit of giggles. The warlock is covered from head to toe in snow, and Alec is sure he’s in no better condition himself, but even more amusingly his normally-perfect mowhawk is in complete disarray from the wind. And – Alec reaches out and runs his hand through Magnus’ hair to confirm, ignoring the disgruntled huff he gets in response – is frozen stiff, crackling against his fingers.

“Why didn’t we just portal?” Alec asks, still gasping for breath slightly. Even for a trained shadowhunter, their cabin is a fair distance from the quarters where Magnus’ warlock friend lives. Especially when he’d been expecting a leisurely stroll through the gorgeous snowy mountains.

“And ruin the fun?” Magnus quips back, “We couldn’t possibly.”

Alec fixes him with a disbelieving look and stares pointedly at the floor where the snow coating their clothes is starting to melt into a puddle around them.

Magnus remains unabashed, but his tone does become a little more serious as he continues.

“Old warlock formalities. I can’t portal on another warlock’s land without permission, even if they are an old friend – the wards wouldn’t allow it,” he explains.

“C’mon Magnus don’t act like I don’t know exactly how powerful you are. You could circumvent the wards in seconds.”

“You flatter me, Alexander,” Magnus chuckles and Alec rolls his eyes.

“It’s not flattery if it’s true.”

And it is. He’s seen Magnus perform feats of magic he can barely comprehend and he’s _well_ aware of the incredible power running through the warlock’s veins (a little too aware at times but that’s definitely not the point).

Yet when he says as much Magnus gets slightly shifty-eyed – as he always seems to when Alec compliments him on things that really should be obvious.

“Maybe so,” Magnus concedes with a shrug, after a brief pause, “But it would be an unforgivable breach of etiquette and deeply insulting to our host. I can only imagine the fallout if I made a show of the fact I could dismantle their wards for anything other than incredibly extenuating circumstances – I’d never be invited anywhere again!”

Alec has to admit he can’t argue with that; the importance of respect (or at least the illusion of it) between different factions and an understanding of the careful etiquette required to maintain it is one of the few things that translates directly between shadowhunter and warlock culture. The melodramatic way Magnus explains it still has him stifling a fond eye-roll though.

Looking out window as it rattles in the wind, Alec considers the snow still swirling outside before turning to his husband. He feels a grin creep onto his face as Magnus eyes him quizzically.

“Looks like we won’t be able to make it home this evening like we planned,” he says slyly.

Magnus mock pouts, and Alec can only smile wider at the glint of mischief in the warlock’s brown eyes.

“Such a shame,” Magnus says, taking a purposeful step closer until they’re pressed flush against each other, “The two of us, stuck in this quaint cabin in the middle of the mountains,” he inclines he head in invitation, breath puffing against Alec’s cheek in the scant space left between them and voice dropping to a low whisper, “Alone until the storm passes.”

Alec gladly obliges, pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. He breaks away just as it starts to turn heated, dodging Magnus’ attempt to dive back in as soon as they part and grinning at the disappointed noise Magnus makes.

“I _really_ like the way you think,” he murmurs, “But I should probably call Izzy and let her know that we’re stuck. Rather than just disappearing for the evening.”

The unimpressed look on Magnus’ face says he doesn’t see why, but he obligingly fishes the phone from Alec’s back pocket where his hand has wandered and passes it over.

(If asked, Magnus would firmly maintain that he showed commendable self-control in only copping a brief feel. Alec refuses to acknowledge either that or that frankly unbecoming squeak that escaped him.)

Izzy picks up after the first ring, clearly worried considering he’s calling her on what should be a routine mission. Concern quickly turns to scepticism, though, when Alec explains the situation. He gets as far as relaying Magnus’ spiel about the politics of portalling through a fellow warlock’s wards before she interrupts.

“I’m pretty sure being caught in a freak snowstorm counts as extenuating circumstances _hermano,_ ” she says dryly.

There’s a moment resounding silence where Alec is left floundering for a plausible reason why they can’t just send a fire message explaining the situation and get permission for a portal. Then Magnus cuts in.

“That would be a good point if I wasn’t utterly drained from this evening. All those complications in the spellwork – completely exhausting,” he explains smoothly, “I doubt I’ve got enough magic to create a portal if I tried.”

Izzy’s responding eyeroll is almost audible but she doesn’t call either of them on their bullshit. Alec is hit with wave of gratitude – he and Magnus have barely had any alone time since the wedding (perks of being high ranking leaders of their respective people) and several hours uninterrupted in the middle of nowhere sounds like heaven.

Unfortunately, Izzy knows this too if her suggestive parting encouragement to “have fun” is any indication. Alec doesn’t even need to look to know that Magnus is composing something even more suggestive to say back.

“ _Goodbye_ Izzy,” he groans and hangs up before Magnus can respond, all previous gratitude towards his sister dispelled at the prospect of having to listen to her trade innuendos with his husband.

He’s barely turned his phone off before Magnus snaps his fingers to summon a blanket and light the fire, alighting on the couch before flicking the blankets back to make space. He shoots an expectant and distinctly cat-got-the cream look at Alec who promptly bursts out laughing 

“Magic depletion?” he asks increduosly.

“Oh yes,” Magnus confirms as Alec slides in next to him obligingly and snuggles up under the blanket, sighing at the warmth of his husband pressed up against him. Magnus promptly sends up another shower of sparks as he summons a steaming mug – heaped with cream and complete with actual sticks of cinnamon – for each of them, “And I think cuddling in front of the fire with the man I love is exactly what I need to recover.”

Alec presses closer with a shake of his head, still chuckling as he raises the mug to his lips.

“Well, far be it from me to deny you something so vital to your recovery,” he teases, taking a sip.

And almost doing a spectacular spit-take.

“By the _Angel_ Magnus, how much alcohol did you put in this?”

“Just enough,” is the smug reply he gets, “Does wonders to warm you up.”

Alec raises an eyebrow in response, but the effect is definitely ruined as he takes another long sip. He tangles their legs together, rucking up Magnus’ shirt to trace patterns on his torso. Magnus shivers, though Alec’s not sure whether from the sensation or just because his hands are cold

“You know what _else_ is good for warming you up?” he asks.

Magnus grins.

“Why don’t you enlighten me.”

“Body heat,” Alec murmurs, skimming his hands down Magnus’ ribs to emphasise his point.

He’s barely finished talking before Magnus is putting his mug to the side and shucking off his shirt, encouraging Alec to to the same with a murmured, “Can’t argue with that.”

When they’re settled again, hands gently roaming over bare skin – not with any intention but rather to just touch – Alec reaches for his cup again, relishing the warmth. His hands still feel like they’re made of ice but the hot drink and Magnus’ heated skin is definitely helping. Draining the rest, he tries not to wince at the way the alcohol has settled at the bottom of the mug making it somehow even stronger.

He catches the fond smile on Magnus’ face but before he has a chance to ask, Magnus is swiping a finger across Alec’s upper lip. He draws back and Alec has just enough time to process that some of the (frankly ridiculous amount) of cream from the cocoa must have got caught there. 

Then Magnus sucks his finger into his mouth, licking it clean a way that crosses the border into indecent, and Alec’s brain short circuits. 

A thought strikes him (once he’s regained the ability to think, albiet a little less clear than before) as he watches Magnus finish off his own mug with a smug wink before refilling them both. Tilting his head up from where it’s settled on Magnus’ shoulder, Alec steals a thorough kiss.

Magnus’ free hand immediately comes up to cradle Alec’s face and Alec parts his lips to deepen the kiss. Hauling Magnus closer until Magnus is practically sitting on his lap, Alec groans at the heady combination of chocolate and whiskey he can taste on Magnus’ tongue.

Eventually he manages to pull himself away and is gratified – always is, no matter how many times they do this – when he’s greeted by brilliant gold as he meets Magnus’ gaze.

“Just as I suspected,” Alec says, managing to keep a very serious demeanour until Magnus looks at him – still somewhat dazed – with such pure confusion that Alec can’t help but give in, “Tastes much better that way.”

Magnus narrows his eyes.

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I mix you a drink,” he says wryly and Alec snickers. It’s hard to tell, he thinks, whether the giddy boldness he’s feeling is because of the spiked cocoa when this is how Magnus has always made him feel anyway.

However, it quickly becomes clear that at least some of it is definitely from the cocoa, which is starting to settle over him in a pleasant fog. It’s the most content he’s felt in quite a while; curled up against his husband who’s shifting to pull the blanket more comfortably over them, with no responsibilities until at least tomorrow morning, and so, _so_ warm despite how frozen he felt when they first sat down. Though he’d never hear the end of it if he said anything, Magnus definitely has a point about the cocoa’s warming properties.

Manuavering so his head is in Alec’s lap, Magnus makes a soft noise of approval as Alec automatically moves to run his hands through his husband’s hair. Within seconds Magnus is dozing.

Evidently there was also some truth to Magnus’ claim of magical exhaustion, as much as he was using it as an excuse, Alec muses as he toys with his sleeping husband’s hair. It wouldn’t be surprising given Magnus’ well-documented tendency to use jokes and flippancy to mask any and all vulnerability. Thinking about it now, Magnus hasn’t done anything more complicated than a summoning spell since they got back to the cabin, even though Alec can call to mind several other times where Magnus would normally resort to magic out of pure impatience.

The realisation drives home to Alec, not for the first time, how much they’ve both changed in the time they’ve known each other. When they first met, there’s no doubt that Magnus would have insisted he was fine and stayed awake well into the night to prove it. Raziel knows Alec spent their first few months visibly terrified, but in hindsight Magnus was just as bad. The only difference was he knew how to hide it. Now the Alec knows what to look for, there were so many things that screamed out how worried Magnus was that Alec would think less of him for any show of vulnerability.

It’s humbling that Alec is the one Magnus lets down his guard around now. Because it’s one thing to know someone will watch your back, but another thing – a completely different level of trust – to properly relax around them.

And Magnus is completely relaxed. Alec can feel the familiar presence of Magnus’ magic flowing just below his skin, reaching out as it always does when they touch. But it’s mellow. Sleeping, for lack of a better word. For someone like Magnus, who’s always on high alert and whose magic rests even less than he does, that’s almost a miracle.

Stirring slightly, Magnus (or at least his magic) seems to register that Alec is still awake, and with a gentle glow from Magnus’ fingertips the lights dim and the fire dies down to a pile of smouldering embers. Only then does it hit Alec how exhausted he is too. The combination of whiskey and the fading adrenaline from the day’s excitement is as potent as any sleeping draught Magnus could have brewed in his apothecary.

Lulled by the rhythmic up and down of Magnus’ breathing and the repetition of his hand still carding through Magnus’ hair, Alec catches himself dozing. The last thought he registers before he drifts off, wrapped up in the blanket and Magnus’ arms, is that they should definitely work out how to arrange another snowstorm next time they want some time to themselves.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and yell with me on tumblr (@icanthelpbut-love-you)


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